


Something of no value

by El Staplador (elstaplador)



Category: Zenda Novels - Anthony Hope
Genre: Community: ladiesbingo, F/F, Pastiche, ruritania
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 05:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8736205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elstaplador/pseuds/El%20Staplador
Summary: The Duchess of Olmeda admired Princess Osra; she pitied Princess Osra; she despised Princess Osra.
And she loved Princess Osra.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the ladiesbingo prompt 'Beauty'. Title comes from 'The Prisoner of Zenda'.

You have heard of Princess Osra, of course. Who has not? Loveliest by far of a handsome race, crowned by the glorious red-gold hair that has marked the Elphbergs for as long as they have sat upon the throne of Ruritania.

But I think you will have not heard of the Duchess of Olmeda. Perhaps, if you have been honoured to enter the palace at Strelsau, and to have spent an hour in the picture gallery there, you have seen her portrait and wondered who she is, the _unknown Spanish lady_. No? Well, I suppose it is not very large: it hangs to the left of the equestrian portrait of Rudolf III and beneath the last picture of the Bishop of Modenstein. It was painted by Giraldo of Verona; that's why they keep it. You must look for it, if you are ever lucky enough to visit again: a canvas perhaps a foot high, a simple head-and-shoulders portrait of a lady with dark hair and an ironic smile. That's the Duchess of Olmeda.

And I know for sure that you will not have read of the Duchess of Olmeda in the stories they write of Princess Osra, though without doubt she belongs in them.

The Duchess of Olmeda was a good woman. She loved the Duke, despite great provocation. She loved her children. She loved her country, though she was obliged to spend many years outwith its borders.

And she loved Princess Osra.

It surprised her. She knew from her first day in the Ruritanian court that she admired Princess Osra, that she pitied Princess Osra, that she despised – yes! - Princess Osra. But love?

We are going too fast – though indeed it seemed too fast for the poor Duchess, whose heart was lost the moment she set foot in court, yet we may take things at a slower pace.

First, the Duchess of Olmeda admired Princess Osra. Who would not? Princess Osra was the greatest beauty that Ruritania has seen before or since. Always with the exception, of course, of the lady who is closest to the throne at any given moment – assuming Ruritania approves of her. Oh, we're tying ourselves in knots here. It is true that Princess Osra was very beautiful, so beautiful that people would have stopped in the street to look at her even had she been a commoner.

Second, the Duchess of Olmeda pitied Princess Osra. Who would not? If the life of a duchess is ordered by forces beyond her control, then the life of a princess is stifling. The Duchess saw the rabble of royalty and noblemen who queued to pay court to Princess Osra, who herself could feel nothing for any of them, and she pitied her as one pities a prisoner or an animal in a menagerie. And Henry the Lion was not to be defied too often.

Third, the Duchess of Olmeda despised Princess Osra. It was not because Princess Osra was beautiful; it was not even because Princess Osra knew herself to be beautiful. But the Duchess, who was not so ill-looking herself, saw that Princess Osra had come to think of herself as nothing more than the sum of her beauty and her rank.

And, because she loved Princess Osra, and had loved her from the beginning, this distressed her more than she cared to admit.

Still, she was used to holding her tongue, and she would have spoken none of this had it not befallen that the Lion took a mind to go to Zenda a-hunting, and included in the party that he brought with him Osra his daughter, and the Duke of Olmeda, and the Duchess.

Two days they were there, and three, and the hunting was good. And after three days the Princess, tiring of the company of men and the flattery of men, sought out the Duchess, and desired that she should accompany her walking in the forest.

Princess Osra was silent for long minutes, and the Duchess was glad of it. This was bliss she had not thought of: to walk alone with the Princess in the dappled sunlight and the crisp frosty grass, the dying leaves no less bright than the glorious Elphberg hair.

'Duchess,' said Princess Osra at last, 'I would ask a favour of you.'

'A favour, your royal highness?' the Duchess said, startled. 'What can I give you? Were I a man I could offer you my heart and my service. As it is, my body and my will are pledged to my husband, and my soul to my God.'

'I weary of flattery, of courtship, of light words. You can tell me the truth.'

The Duchess smiled. 'That is one thing that I cannot give you. I am here as Spain, or, at least, as Spain's wife, and you are Ruritania's daughter. I must guard my tongue, lest I start a war.'

The Princess tossed her head. 'I am more than Ruritania's daughter.'

'Or,' said the Duchess, daring greatly, 'less than it.'

The royal face grew cold and proud. 'What do you mean by that?'

And the Duchess wondered whether she had in truth begun a war. 'I mean, your royal highness, that you are a human being. No better, no worse. And that's the truth.'

Princess Osra frowned; then she laughed. 'Oh, no! Better born than all, better looking than most, perhaps; but worse natured than most common Ruritanians. Tell me, Duchess, what do you think of me?'

The reply was an indrawn breath. Then, 'The truth, if I must die to tell it?'

'The truth, if I kill you for it myself.' It was probable that she jested; but she was the daughter of Henry the Lion, after all.

The Duchess blushed scarlet. 'The truth, then: I admire you. I pity you. I despise you. I love you.' And for a moment she thought that she would indeed die for this, and that it would be worth it.

The Princess only said, 'Explain.'

'I admire you, for you are in truth as beautiful as they say. I pity you, for you are Ruritania's daughter, and therefore know not freedom. I despise you, for you think that it is those things that make you beloved.'

Anger flashed across the Princess' face. 'And?'

'And that I love you, I cannot explain. None the less, it is the truth.'

'Sweet lady!' Osra murmured, catching at the Duchess' arm. 'And you, at least, have nothing to gain by pretending love to me.'

The Duchess glanced away. 'Yet that is not mine to give you, either.'

'I only asked for truth, Duchess. I am well satisfied.' She smiled as if, indeed, she were. 'And what have I to give you in return?'

'I ask for nothing in return, your royal highness. Truth ought to be free.'

'Then I will pay for it with something of no value. That being so, you need feel no shame in accepting it.' And the Princess bent and kissed her.


End file.
